


More Like a Memory

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-08-29 08:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8482771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Another reincarnation fic.Alec Andre Handleson has no idea he's an incarnate, and Aaron Burr, John Laurens, and George Washington aren't entirely sure what to do about it.I'm bad at summaries, please read.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I know I already posted one reincarnation fic and I haven't finished it, buuuuut here's another?

“You’re an incarnate,” Burr heard a voice behind him say.

He sighed, preparing himself for another barrage of insults, but when he turned, the well-practiced retort died on his lips.

A familiar boy, younger and scrappier than ever, was eyeing him with interest. He swallowed, blood pounding in his ears at the sight of his old friend. The boy appeared to be waiting for some sort of response, but his mouth had gone dry. He swallowed again, licking his lips. “I…yes?” he finally managed feebly.

The boy smiled. “Don’t worry, I have nothing against that. In fact, I’ve written several articles for the school newspaper protesting the lack of respect for incarnates. They refused to publish, seemed to think I was stirring up unnecessary trouble.” He shrugged, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m curious, though. Not many incarnates at this school.”

Burr nodded wordlessly. His father had been disgusted when he had had his Revelation, and only payed for his schooling to keep him out of the house. It didn’t help that he was a well-known historical figure, and not a particularly liked one at that. He had fallen into the habit of pretending his first life hadn’t happened. If anyone asked who he had been, he replied nonchalantly that he’d fought in the revolutionary war, lived to tell the tale, and died of a stroke.

The boy was still watching him curiously, looking far too young. He clearly had no idea who he himself had been, or even that he was an incarnate at all. “When were you born? The first time, I mean. You don’t have to tell me, of course, I just find the concepts of reincarnation fascinating.”

“1756.”

The boy’s face lit up. “Oh! Were you part of the revolution?”

Burr nodded. “I fought in the war.”

“Thank you for your service,” the boy said, “I’m Alec Andre Handleson, I’m at your service, sir.”

I have been looking for you, Burr thought to himself. “I’m…” he hesitated. He hadn’t told anyone of his past identity at this school, but maybe it would trigger some of Alec’s memories. It was a desperate hope, but this time, this time, he would not to throw away his shot. Scattering caution to the winds, he looked Alec square in the eyes, smiled grimly, and held out a hand. “Aaron Burr, sir.”

Alec’s mouth opened in surprise. “Aaron Burr?” he asked in astonishment. “The one who…well…”

Burr dropped his hand to his side, his determination drained. “Yes,” he replied, and even after all these years, his voice was still a little hoarse when he spoke of… “Hamilton. My friend-- whom I shot.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burr tries to collect his thoughts, unsuccessfully, and Alec is not helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I'm clearly not very good at updating. However, here's the next (short) chapter, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> I may need to go back and rework some of this later, but I tried.

Burr stared at his face in the mirror, dabbing at his bleeding nose with a paper towel. He should have seen it coming, he supposed, memory or not. The fact remained that he had killed Alexander Hamilton, and the world would never let him forget it.

 

He sighed.

 

He had deserved what he had gotten, in this life and the last. The inescapable feeling that, no matter how long he lived, he would constantly be paying for his mistake over and over weighed heavily on his shoulders. _History obliterates,_ he thought drily, _and every picture it paints, it paints me in all my mistakes... When Alexander aimed at the sky he may have been the first one to die, but I’m the one who paid for it._ He closed his eyes, trying to shut out his own thoughts.

 

_I survived, but I paid for it._

 

He drew a shuddering breath as he rested his head against the cool glass of the mirror.

 

 _You’ve become quite the poet, haven’t you?_ a voice in his mind sneered, sounding eerily like the old Hamilton. _Such a waste of talent._

 

_Shut up._

 

_Can’t even listen to your own advice anymore. What was it? Oh yes: ‘Talk less. Smile more. Don’t let them know what you’re against or what you’re for.’_

 

Burr gripped the edges of the sink hard, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, as if that could somehow dispel the ghost of his own conscience. _Shut UP._

 

 _Yes,_ Hamilton scoffed, _because shutting up always worked well for you back in the day, didn’t it, Burr?_

 

A knock on the door interrupted his internal argument. His memory of Hamilton sunk back into the depths of his mind where it seethed with anger, a shadow of his worst nightmares that had haunted him every step of his life.

 

“Aaron Burr, sir?”

 

Hamilton was at the door. Well. Alec, anyway. Burr turned off the water, rubbing his temples. A headache was forming, a very Hamilton-sized headache, creating a surreal feeling of deja vu as it muddled his thoughts together in a swirling mess of confusion. He gritted his teeth.

 

_Why me?_

 

_(Well-)_

 

_(Shut up, Hamilton.)_

 

He realized Alec would be expecting some sort of reply, but as he drew breath to do so, he found that he had nothing to say. Maybe the kid would just go away…

 

“Mr Burr?”

 

 _Dammit._ He should have known better. Hamilton was too stubborn to give up now that he had found Burr.

 

“What do you want, Hamilton?” he growled.

 

“Handelson, actually, sir,” Alec replied, a hint of amusement in his voice.

 

“Right,” Burr muttered, silently cursing himself for making such a careless error.

 

“I came to apologize, sir.”

 

Burr raised an eyebrow. Apologize? _Hamilton?_

_…This was definitely new._  
__________________

Alec bounced on the balls of his feet, guilt pricking his stomach. He hadn’t intended to punch the boy, he really hadn’t, but his temper had gotten the better of him. Aaron Burr had caused something to rise up inside him, some ancient hatred, and before he’d known what he was doing, his fist had connected with the other boy’s noise with a satisfying crack.

 

_I will never be satisfied…_

He shook his head. Burr had paid for what he had done already, in this life and the last.

Aaron Burr. What were the chances that _Aaron Burr_ would go to his school? Apparently pretty good, he supposed, since the man himself was right behind that door.

Speaking of that door, there was a small click as it opened.

Burr faced him, some unintelligible emotion in his eyes as he stood awkwardly in the doorway, avoiding eye contact.

Sir-” Alec started in a rush, but Burr held up a hand.

"Ham…” Burr cut himself off, fixing his shoes with a glare as seemed to pull himself together. “Alec. Really. it’s not the seventeen hundreds anymore, I’m not going to be offended if you use my first name.”

Alec bobbed his head, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Right. Sorry. I didn’t mean to punch you, I’m really sorry, I’m not entirely sure why I did it, I know you’ve already gone through a lot for what you’ve done, and I don’t believe that you really intended to kill him, you see-”

“It’s fine.”

Alec looked up at him with wide eyes. “So you forgive me?”

Burr swallowed, and he seemed to be fighting with himself. “I…” he paused, wildly looking anywhere but Alec’s face. “If- if you’ll forgive me.”

Alec tilted his head in confusion. “For what?”

Burr shook his head slightly, not saying a word.

Pity washed over Alec, and a strange sense of familiarity welled up inside him.

A stray thought drifted to the forefront of his mind, momentarily interrupting the endless hurricane of thoughts that inhabited his every waking moment.

_All is forgiven._

Alec swallowed nervously. Something about this situation wasn’t sitting quite right, as if he had the pieces to the wrong puzzle, but was still trying to make the picture on the box.

Burr’s eyes were dull and sad, set deep in their sockets as if they were trying to crawl back into his skull for fear of what they’d seen. The disproportionate age of the body and the soul so carefully shielded behind those large, dark eyes made Handleson feel almost dizzy.

Words dragged themselves from his throat, burning his tongue as they left his mouth in a voice that wasn't entirely his own.

"All is forgiven.”


	3. Chapter 3

Alec sat in bed, still fully dressed. The light from his computer cast a ghostly glow on his tired face, darkening the shadows below his dark eyes. His hair had long since escaped the restraints of the rubber band he had hastily tied around it, and now hung loose about his face, brushing against the back of his neck. Practiced fingers flew across the keyboard, executing every word with lightning precision as the paragraphs grew longer and longer, the pages stretching on and on.

There was no time to pause for such trivial things as food or sleep, he was in a world all his own, a world free from distractions, a world made up entirely of tiny black and white characters slipping across the screen.

He jumped as his computer made a small 'ping' noise.

**Your battery is running low (10%)  
You might want to plug in your PC.**

Alec ran a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. He stood slowly, his back groaning in protest from having been bent over in the same position for... how long? He checked his phone.

Four hours.

There were also four new messages from a number he didn't recognize. He frowned, peering at the small text. He fumbled around the floor, looking for his glasses, and balanced them precariously on his nose.

 

**Unknown:** Dear sir,

**Unknown:** I have spent much time attempting to contact you. I do not expect you to remember me, but you have often crossed my thoughts.

**Unknown:** I merely wished to know how you are faring in this nation we built together, and hoped that you would do me the honor of gracing me with your presence once more.

**Unknown:** I wish you well in your journeys. I am, as always, your obedient servant.

 

Alec raised an eyebrow. This was probably one of the strangest wrong number he had ever received, but he patiently tapped out a response.

 

**You:** I’m really sorry, but I think you have the wrong number.

**Unknown:** oops. sorry.

**You:** No, it’s no problem. Are you an incarnate?

 

As he thought about it, he realized that might sound suspicious. Incarnates were often considered below new souls, just dusty old fools who had usurped so-called 'normal people' of their place on Earth so older souls could have another chance. If this person thought that he, Alec, was one of those people, he may not want to answer.

 

**You:** I have nothing against incarnates, if you’re worried.

**You:** It just seemed like you were trying to reach someone you knew.

**Unknown:** yeah

 

Alec smiled at his phone. He was now sitting on the floor, cord forgotten in his excitement of meeting yet another incarnate.

 

**You:** Who were you trying to reach?

**Unknown:** an old friend. george washington.

 

Alec nearly dropped his phone. This guy knew George Washington. This guy was FRIENDS WITH GEORGE WASHINGTON.

 

**You:** You KnEW geORgE WASHinGTON??/ >@???

**You:** Who were you, if I’m allowed to ask?

 

He held his breath as he waited for a response. Unknown took their time in answering, and Alec had just about given up hope when his phone lit up with a new message.

 

**Unknown:** i was john laurens, if you must know

 

This time, Alec really did drop his phone. John Laurens, THE John Laurens was texting him. The revolutionary manumission abolitionist. Friend of Alexander Hamilton, the Marquis de La Fayette, and George Washington. JOHN FREAKIN’ LAURENS IN THE PLACE TO BE.

 

**You:** …ohmygod

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** meaning…?

**You:** Lieutenant Colonel, you are a hero!

**You:** Thank you so much for everything!

 

He paused for a second before typing out timidly:

 

**You:** Can I have an autograph?

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** this is *definitely* a better reaction than i usually get

 

Alec grinned, hands shaking slightly with the excitement of finally meeting one of his heroes. He considered what to say next: he didn’t want to bore the man.

 

**You:** I know someone from your time, sir.

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** really?

**You:** Yeah. I was seeking an accelerated course of study when I got sort of out of sorts with a buddy of yours.

**You:** I may have punched him.

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** …

 

Alec winced.

 

**You:** It’s a blur, sir.

**You:** He shot Hamilton.

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** you punched aaron burr.

**You:** Yes.

**You:** He looked at me like I was stupid.

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** …

**You:** (I’m not stupid)

**You:** Do you want to see him, sir?

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** heck yeah

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** i need a chance to punch the bastard myself

 

Alec grinned down at his phone. He hadn’t offended him. Good.

 

**JOHN LAURENS!!!!!!!!:** what’s your name

**You:** Alec Andre Handleson  
________________________________________________________

John Laurens frowned at his phone. There was something oddly familiar about Alec, besides the name, some spark of recognition.

He wasn't sure why he had responded when the other man had inquired about his incarnation, nor why he had continued the conversation past anything he had told anyone before, but something told him he could trust Alec.

And now, here was Alec telling him he knew Aaron Burr. The chances were so, _so_ small of anything coming from this, but he needed to see him. He wasn't entirely sure why, for closure, for the satisfaction of hitting the man who had killed _his love_...

Laurens himself had already died by the time Burr stole Alexander Hamilton from the world.

But maybe, just maybe, Hamilton had wandered back over the thin line that separated the living from the dead.

_I can't wait to see you again._


	4. Chapter 4

Laurens wrapped his coat more tightly around him against the biting cold. The steady wind blew his hair in his face, and he silently cursed the fickle weather of DC. He waited impatiently outside the school, hoping Alec would be there soon. He had promised to be there at exactly 5:00, but that hour came and went with no sign of him.   


Several passing students and teachers gave him odd looks as they passed; an unfamiliar teen looking frozen to the core waiting outside a school for twenty minutes might seem a little strange, he supposed.

"Sir!"

Laurens started out of a cold-induced reverie, turning to see a short boy running towards him, panting slightly.

His breath caught in his throat as he faced him.

Long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, green-and-silver scarf wrapped rather haphazardly around his neck, a hooked nose, pink-tinged with cold, and dark bags circling a large pair of intelligent eyes.

It was _him._

Hamilton blinked brightly up at him. "Are you Lt. Colonel Laurens?"

Laurens opened his mouth to reply, but no sound escaped his lips. It was _him,_ his Alexander, returned to him after those long years of solitude, and he...

Oh god, he had no clue who he was.

"Sir?"

He realized with a jolt that he had been staring. "I..." _Focus,_ he scolded himself. "Uh... yes. I mean. Yeah. Alec, right?"

Hamilton- no, Alec bobbed his head up and down. “It’s an honor to meet you sir, it truly is!”

The words felt like a stab in the gut. 

"I- yes. You, too."

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Alec knocked on the door. “Hello?” he heard Burr call.

“It’s me. I brought a friend who wanted to meet you.”

There was an annoyed growl. “Hamilton, I told you not to tell anyone.”

Alec sighed. “And I told  _ you _ , my name is  _ Handleson _ .”

There was a slight pause. “Go away.”

Alec grinned. Annoying Burr had become one of his favourite past times in the last few days. “Should I feel honoured or betrayed that you keep confusing me with the man you  _ shot?” _ he asked innocently.

“What do you want?” came the muffled response.

“I found an old friend of yours.”

Laurens smirked. He stepped towards the door. “Aaron Burr, sir.”

There was a small crash as if someone had fallen out of a chair. Muttered curses reached their ears, then footsteps leading up to the door. The knob turned, and Laurens stared in surprise at the modern reincarnation of Aaron Burr. He was younger than Alec, small, with dark skin and irritated eyes that positively glowered at Laurens. “Lt. Colonel Laurens,” he said frostily.

Time seemed to slow down like a cheesy action adventure movie as Laurens drew back one hand, clenched in a fist. Bur saw it coming and braced himself just as the fist slammed into his chest. He stumbled back into the room, catching himself on his bed. “ _ That’s _ for murdering my best friend,” he growled.

Burr rubbed his arm, feeling the bruise forming beneath his fingers. “How did you find me?” 

Laurens seated himself in Burr's desk chair, crossing his arms as he glared at the smaller boy. Alec stood awkwardly in the doorway, a slightly bemused expression on his face. 

“Handleson.” 

Burr frowned at Alec, who shrugged. “Sorry. But he’s, you know,  _ John Laurens _ .”

Laurens turned to Alec. “Would you mind if I had a word with Burr in private?”

Alec's eyes flicked between the two, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to protest, but he merely nodded, closing the door behind him. Burr watched Laurens balefully as the latter indulged in a quick spin in the swivel chair. “How long have you known Hamilton in this life?” he asked.

“Only a few days.”

“Have you found anyone else?”

“No.” Laurens stared at the boy a moment longer, and a smirk spread across his face. “What?” Burr sounded almost resigned.

“Nothing, I’m just enjoying you as a teenager.”

Burr rolled his eyes again. “If you like this you’ll love Hamilton. He’s  _ exactly the same  _ as before _. _ ”

Laurens grinned. “I expect nothing less. Have you been trying to trigger his memories?”

“I was. I got punched." There was a slight pause before Burr spoke again. “I… I’m sorry.”

“For what? Being punched, or murdering Alexander Hamilton?” Laurens asked lightly.

“It wasn't..." Burr sighed. "I never set out to- to kill him. Have you read the theories? Some say he was trying to commit suicide.” Burr’s voice cracked, and he looked down at his hands. “I swear, I didn’t mean to shoot him, I didn’t mean to hurt him,  _ I didn’t want to kill him! _ ” Laurens noticed with a shock that there were tears running down Burr’s face.

He froze, watching awkwardly as Burr broke down.  _ He really is just a kid _ , Laurens realized. Hesitantly, he put a hand on Burr’s shoulder. “Listen,” he said, “I believe you, okay? It’s alright.”

Burr nodded wordlessly. “We need to get him back,” he whispered into his fingers, “I need… I need to apologize. I deserved what I got.”

Laurens nodded absently. He wasn’t sure what he would have expected of teenage Burr, but this was certainly not it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long. It's not my best work, but hey, at least it's something, right?

Laurens sighed, watching the cloud of breath disappear into the sky dismally. Alec, bundled as he always was in his heavy jacket and Slytherin scarf, had not closed his mouth since they had left the dorm. He had begun on “that ignorant self-obsessed orgulous flap-jawed jollux,” and had progressed to the “stone-faced conservative anti-gay fool-hardy nacket” that had been elected VP. He was currently part way through explaining precisely how the country was going to fall to ruins if “we let this insolent pronk take control.”

 

Burr walked silently a few steps behind them, his head bent low as if he were trying to avoid being spotted. Laurens shook his head in disbelief. The odds of any of this happening must be astronomical, he decided. And whether that meant that the universe was on his side or against it, it didn’t matter. 

 

Lost in his thoughts, Laurens didn’t see the man until it was too late.

 

“Oh! Sorry, I…”

 

His voice trailed off. The man was well-muscled, tall, and _ very  _ familiar.

 

Dark eyes sat below a pair of thick eyebrows, currently scrunched together as if in deep thought. He shook his head, muttered, “it’s fine,” and moved to continue on his way.

 

Laurens took a moment to pull himself together. “You Excellency, sir!”

 

The man froze.

 

He turned slowly, lips parted in shock as Laurens instinctively scrambled into a salute. A small scuffling noise behind him told him that Burr had done the same. 

 

“Uh… guys?” Alec asked in confusion.

 

“Lt. Colonel Laurens?” the man said in disbelief.

 

Laurens smiled, unshed tears making his vision go blurry. Alec noticed the man for the first time, and perked up. “Oh! Mr Wellington! I didn’t see you...” his voice trailed off as Laurens ran the man and pulled him into a hug.

 

Wellington seemed frozen for a moment or two, before he melted slightly, and patted Laurens awkwardly on the back.

 

Burr cleared his throat nervously. “President Washington.”

 

Wellington’s--  _ Washington’s _ eyes narrowed as his gaze fell upon the smaller teen behind Alec. “Colonel Burr,” he said frostily, “I believe you know what I’m about to say.”

 

Burr dropped his head slightly, studying his shoes and he let his hand swing by his side. “Yes, sir.”

 

“I made my opinion on dueling  _ very clear-” _

 

Alec had his hand in the air as if asking a question in class. He was staring at Washington as if seeing him for the first time, and his mouth was slightly open. “Hang on a minute.  _ President Washington? _ As in  _ President  _ George  _ Washington? _ As in  _ founder-and-leader-of-this-country _ Washington?!”

 

Washington turned to Alec, and pain briefly showed in his eyes that only Laurens noticed. “Is there another President Washington, Mr Handelson?”

 

Alec opened and closed his mouth several times, his eyes huge, almost resembling a fish left too long on a dry deck.

 

“And here comes the fanboy,” muttered Burr under his breath.

 

Alec finally managed to pull himself together. “Sir! It’s an honour to meet you!” he cried, rushing over and shaking Washington’s hand enthusiastically.

 

Washington looked amused. “I’ve already met you, Alec. Remember? You’re in my class.”

 

Alec paused. “Right, yes, sorry sir. It’s just…  _ George Washington is my history teacher _ . I have the first president of the United States. As a US history teacher.”

 

“Yes,” confirmed Washington, “yes, you do.”

 

“I can’t…that’s just… _ omigod _ …”

 

“Not so eloquent now, Hamilton?” Burr smirked from beside Laurens, and Alec rolled his eyes, not even bothering to correct him.

 

Laurens, however, was concentrating on a different point. “You teach US history?” he asked in disbelief.

 

Washington smiled wryly. “Funny, isn’t it? I remembered unusually late in life, and I had already become a teacher.”

 

They chatted for a while, Alec bouncing excitedly by Washington’s side while Burr seemed to be trying to figure out how best to make his escape. One of Washington’s hands on his shoulders told him that he wasn’t entirely off the hook and Burr knew that as soon as Alec was out of the way, Washington would be having a serious discussion with him.

 

He sighed. He had known this was coming from the moment he had recognized Washington the first time, near the beginning of the year, in the hallway. Burr had immediately ducked into the bathroom, unsure whether or not he had been noticed or not, but not wanting to find out.

 

“It’s a little cold,” Burr announced, “I think I’m going to head back.”

 

Washington shot him a look. “Why don’t we all go back to my place and get some hot chocolate? It’s probably closer, anyway.”

  
Laurens and Hamilton agreed, and burr reluctantly trailed behind them, accepting his fate with a heavy heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments/kudos/etc?


End file.
